Lost

Is it this way? Or perhaps down this corridor, take a left, two doors down, then a right? Where is that damn EXIT sign? For the life of me, I can't seem to find my way out. To the outward world I know where I'm at, I know what I'm suppose to be doing. I'm surrounded by a world of people, their voices echoing in my ear, there is happiness, there is laughter but I am not a part of it. I am LOST.

For days, actually weeks now, I've found myself stumbling into darkness, running on auto-pilot. Remembering a memory of love discovered, felt, shared, remembering a memory of love lost is too painful, no more posting, no more sharing, at least for now. Years have come and gone, five in total but I guess the wound has not healed, today it is still bleeding. Where is the doctor when you need one. . .

Secret Room

A secret room, a locked room within my heart, guarded never before entered and somehow he had discovered it. My heart had betrayed me, revealing to him its secret. No one before him had ever ventured this far inside, I had never allowed it. Before I knew it, he had placed the key within the lock, the tumblers fell into place, the door unlocked, opened and inside he stepped. I don't know the moment it happened, only that it happened. I've tried many times to remember just when it happened but I honestly can't for the life of me, I only know that it happened. A feeling never known before, a feeling never felt before washed over me. I had fooled myself into believing I had felt it, known it, and had, rather was living it, but this was different, nothing compared, nothing before had prepared me for this. I had fell in love with my best friend.

Beating of my Heart

There I was telling myself that it happened. I thought it happened. I believed it happened. I even felt it happened, so I guess it did happen, at least to some degree. I already knew it had the capacity to give and share on different levels and here at this very moment, it was showing to me yet another one, a level never felt before, so I told myself, it happened.

I told myself this was the one.

But I was, a young man, almost sure of himself, giving his heart away, placing upon it no restrictions, I gave it freely. It gave its love, it shared its love, somehow there was more than enough for all that entered, each had their own place, safely and securely held within its beating walls. Years came and went, people came and went, but my love for them remained constant, always there. I held fast to the course laid now before me, never knowing my heart, the very heart that beat within the walls of my chest held a secret. This heart on mine that forced the very life sustaining blood through my veins held a secret.

Within it beating walls, behind a locked door, lay a room, never before opened, no one ever allowed to enter. Until, he came into my life. How did he know about this room, when I didn't? Where did he find the key, when I didn't know of its hiding place? What would happen if he ever opened the door?

(Stay tuned for the rest of the story)

Home Alone

The week of rushing from here to there, days of working from daylight to dark had come and gone. My busy week, maybe not forgotten was at least in the past. And now it was the night before Sunday and all through the house not a creature was stirring, I was "Home Alone."



Snuggled down in my lazy boy recliner, a bud light, some peanuts, and remote in hand, I was in a man's paradise. No idle chit chat, no home fires to deal with, peace and quiet straight ahead.

A few minutes here, a few minutes there, watching this, watching that, channel surfing the way only a man can do. But before I knew it, the room was filled with music, on the screen was a feast for the eyes, sweat glistening on a hairy chest, hips swaying to the music, I was hooked.





There was Tim, the channel surfing was over, the remote laid down, eyes glued to the big screen. It was just Tim and me. I was in a man's paradise.

If It Feels Right, Then Who Has The Right To Say Different

There was a fork in the road, along the path I walked and I chose the more traveled of the two. A path laid down by father to son many times before. Did I chose this path out of duty or did I chose this path out of fear? Perhaps, the answer will never be known or perhaps having been buried somewhere deep inside many years ago the answer has no importance anymore. But, if I knew then, what I know now, how different things would be, some things would be better and some things, well I can not allow myself to ever imagine not having in my life, but it is all water under the bridge. It is the path I now travel, some dreams not realized but lessons have been learned along the way. Do not make the same mistakes of the father, do not chose the more traveled path because it is what's expected, if the words your brain hears are not the words in your heart, do not listen, chose your own path, make it your own, not someone else's. Don't listen to those that tell you it is wrong, a sin, a damnation. The truth, your truth lies within you, listen to your heart, if it feels right to you, then it is right.

Time Flies

Seconds ticking away. . .

Wondering what happened. . .

Where has all the time gone?

No cares, No worries

Rush here, rush there, not enough time in the day to get everything accomplished. Rushing thoughts, swirling thoughts, all crowded inside, do this, do that, be here, be there, being pushed, being pulled in all directions. Asking myself, is this what I signed up for? If so, what was I thinking!

One more day I remind myself. Be strong, hold fast, I say. Tomorrow will come, there I will find the time to let go, let loose, clear the mind. Forbid the thoughts of a hectic life to invade the peace of having a day of solitude, of having a day with no cares, of having a day with no worries. Tomorrow!

A Peek Inside

You are a survivor, a little battered, a little bruised, wind tattered from the storm. A little glue, some duck tape, sticks and string holding you together. Not the same, changed for the worse or changed for the better, still not sure. Stronger, but ever so much more cautious. Those stealing glances, unseemingly quick looks, what is hid, what is shared? Observing and being observed. Wanting anonymity but yearning to be discovered. This is my blog.

Searching In The Darkness

Eight days of non stop working from daylight to dark with the exception of one day of rest has the body, has the mind, feeling empty, feeling void. Somewhere, something, someone, yet to be discovered, has to be. There has to be more. . .this can't be all there is.

Hallelujah

Lord a mercy, gosh almighty, thank goodness this week is over! It has been an ass kicker of a week. How busy, you ask? Well, let's just say I was busier than a product tester in a dildo factory, if you can imagine that. I know, I know, cry me a river, poor little thing, Stephen had to work this week. But thankfully it is over, I made it through to the other side and now I'm planning on enjoying the weekend. But before I got out and about, I did want to get a quick post in to let you guys know how much it means to me to have you all as friends. Love you guys. Have a good weekend.

Once Upon a Time

Once upon a time in a far away land there was born unto a man and a woman, a man child.


Wait a minute! Far away land?



Ok, well maybe not a far away land but it could have been. After all, it is my story, isn't it?

Actually, it was only a few miles as the crows flies but still none the less there I was taking my first breath of air. And, if I didn't know it then, I certainly knew it early on, there was something different about this man child. Something different but oh so wonderful at the same time. But that so wonderful feeling, that warm tingly feeling caused by the boy who lived down the dirt road from you was something you didn't talk about, at least not out loud.

Learning to Trust Again.

If I have not been deleted from your favorite's list and you are one of the few who happens to come by on occasion to read the words of Stephen, you know Stephen has been silent for weeks, so don't fall out of your chair to see a new post. First, let me say thank-you from the bottom of my heart for the ones that have loyally not given up on me, you know who you are, and I love you for it.

Never make the mistake of believing you are in control of your own life, your own destiny, if you share your secrets, your hopes, your dreams with anyone else. You know Stephen lives in a CLOSET, fuck that is obvious, just look at the title of the blog. There has only been one person in my life that knew Stephen perhaps better than Stephen knew himself and when he died a few years ago I never thought there would be anyone else I would openly share everything with. That was until several months ago and what began as a causal "Hello, nice to meet you." What turned into almost daily communications, an earning of my trust, my wanting a friend to talk with, share secrets, hopes, and dreams with, what began as an innocent email turned out to be a nightmare. I won't go into details here but it turned into a nightmare that almost made me never want to look at a computer ever again. I envy those of you that found the strength and courage to be true to yourselves and if it was only me to think of or consider, I would be shouting it from the courthouse square, but it will be on my terms and not someone else's. Life has lead me down this path and there is something inside me, something that makes this man, this father, continue on walking down it no matter what. It is what makes me who I am. It is up to me to find a balance to my happiness without sacrificing the happiness, the well being of anyone else but do I dare trust again?

Book of Stephen

The Book of Stephen:

A post began, deleted, began again, and still no words.

Where is Stephen in all this darkness.

Hump Day Love

I can't believe it. I'm in shock. All those days of working straight, with no end in sight are finally over! I know, I know, it's hard to believe, but it's true. I have a day off! A "Hump Day" off with nothing to hump, just my luck, but that's ok, I'm still loving it.

Pain to Pleasure

"Your quest to pleasure can not be reached without walking down the path of pain, little one," so said the wise man.

"Well, I've been walking down the path of pain for a few days now and the only thing I have to show for it is a tired and aching body," I said.

"Have faith, my child."

"Faith, you say?" Having kind of lost the faith along the way I wonder if he is as wise as they say. Here I have climbed to the top of this damn mountain only to be told, to have Faith! What kind of bull shit is this? Stephen says and thinks to himself.

"I see, you doubt my wisdom, little one."

Ok, I've just about had it! First he says, have faith, rolling my eyes I think to myself, same line, different Holy Man. And now for the second time, he has referred to me as little one. What is up with this? There is nothing little about me. Hell, I don't even refer to Stephen Jr. as little. Just my luck, a blind wise man! But I'll play along.

Doubt? Oh no, your Holiness, there is no doubt, why would there be any doubt?

"Close your eyes, my child, the road you seek is within. It is a long journey over high mountains and through deep valleys. Dark clouds and heavy rains will fall upon you. You will struggle, you will fall, your heart will bleed. Remember in finding, there was first a seeking, remember in reaching the end there must always be a beginning, to begin a journey there must be a first step. The sands of your hour glass has begun falling, your destiny, your journey . . . .

Yes, Yes, my destiny, my journey? Go on! Tell me more! What is this? Has Stephen become a believer?

Wise man glances at a bright shiny object glaring in the sunlight. "Sorry my child, your time is up! Perhaps, we will begin where we left off today, if that is ok? Your lunch break is over, time you got back to work!"

The Puppeteer

"Who do you think is pulling the strings here?" he ask.

"Well, I thought I was," came my reply.

There is a tug of the string and involuntarily my arm is almost jerked out of its socket.

"Well what do you think of that?" he ask.

"Hey, cut that out," I screamed.

"Cut that out? Cut that out, you say. Well you little ungrateful . . . without me you would be nothing but a pile of rags, bones, and fecal material. It is I that makes it possible for you to live, to eat, to breath and don't you ever forget that! I am the "Puppeteer of Work" now haul your sorry ass of of bed and get to work.

Searching

"Searching . . . searching for what?" he asked.

"If I knew, there would be no need to search," I say. I only know that it is out there, it is waiting.

"You're not making any sense, Stephen. I don't get you sometimes, I really think you were dropped on your head as a child.

Dropped on my head, huh? You really think that is what happened?

No answer comes back, only a shake of the head.

No matter, I think to myself. I know it is out there, it is waiting, I will find it.

Naked

As I walk down the corridor, my steps echoing on the tiled floor, I turn the corner and the echoing stops. Was this in the planning of the building upon its conception? A devised carpeted plan of quiet escape. I can see the door, it is within my grasp, my reach, it is my redeeming salvation, it is my door to freedom. Unable to control my feet, my pace quickens, there is an urgency for me to smell the freshness of the outside, an urgency to feel the air against my skin, the warmth of the sun against my face. My arm extends from my tired frame of an overworked body, hand touches the door, it turns, I push, I walk out into the world. The door shuts, I stand naked, free from all the stress, the headaches, the worries of this week.

Unfortunately

It is so unfortunate, I can not begin to tell you just how unfortunate it really is, beyond describable, beyond imaginable. I awoke this morning and he was gone, no where to be found. He was there last night, I'm sure of it. Lying in my arms as I drifted off to sleep, his body pressed against mine, I know he was there. My first thoughts were he had been abducted by aliens, whisked right out of the bed during the night. God only knows what they must be doing to him. Needle biopsies, probing and prodding his orifices, oh my! A voice screams in my head, "Stephen, get a hold of yourself, man!" Aliens, no way! "If anything, it is probably the second coming of Christ and your ass has been left behind." I lay there thinking to myself, what's the difference, aliens or second coming, either way he's gone and damnit I wasn't finished with him yet. Shaking my head, trying to clear the cobwebs from my still drowsy morning brain, trying to imagine how it all could have happened. How could someone have quietly slipped in and abducted him from my arms without me knowing? I hear something off in the distance. Oh no, screams of torture, screams of pain, I lay there motionless, still as a field mouse hiding from the farmer's cat, fearing they, the abductors, may be returning for me. Louder and louder the sound gets, my heart pounding in my chest, the sound gets closer and closer, a deafening ringing in my ears. Louder, closer, louder, closer, it's HERE, it's next to ME, I can feel it PRESENCE. I can't stand it any longer, I must see, I open my eyes, blinking once, twice, eyes focusing on the tormenter. BIG RED EYES in the shape of numbers stare at me, 4:30 AM! OMG, NO! Please GOD, it can't be! NOT THIS! Not another workday! Couldn't I have my orifices prodded instead?

Outside Looking In

There has always been this feeling I can not ever remember being without. A feeling of there being someone else, another person, another part of me, somehow perhaps, somehow maybe, a twin that never was conceived, never split apart, never came to be. Someone inside, knowing all there is to know about me, my desires, secrets never shared with anyone, my hopes, my dreams. How can it be that this person, this entity knows everything about me? How is it I'm finding myself on the outside looking in?